


Suffering Too Terrible To Name

by darkesky



Series: Swim Down [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Weasley Family-centric (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 04:11:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17676221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkesky/pseuds/darkesky
Summary: "Besides, we can all handle ourselves. Ginny is a fourth year this year," Bill told Molly.In the twins’ fourth year, Ginny got taken to the chamber of secrets. In Ron’s fourth year, his best friend almost died and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came back. And now, in Ginny’s fourth year, Arthur perished and left the family reeling.-AU where, in book 5, Arthur actually died from the snake bite.





	Suffering Too Terrible To Name

_ “Molly, dear, doesn’t this feel a little morbid?” Arthur bounded down the stairs, pausing to offer a slightly crooked smile. He knew each took to their own pet projects. By granting him the garage, Molly indulged his childish fantasies. They took flight in each Muggle artifact neatly ordered on the shelves, waiting to be adapted. The magic entwined them and brought surprises no matter what, whether positive or negative. _

_ But Molly’s projects remained closer to earth. She ensured the kitchen functioned properly. She enchanted the chicken coop to keep the warmth trapped within the walls. She prepared the nursery for their future.  _

_ To see Molly’s red hair stuck in every which direction, teeth gently clamped on a golden rod, was a surprise to say the least. _

_ She glanced over, cheeks immediately flooding red. “I  _ know  _ he’s going to be a rebellious one, Arthur. He keeps kicking.” _

_ “Sure it’s a ‘he’?” Arthur wasn’t convinced it wouldn’t be a girl, himself. He wouldn’t mind either way, but he couldn’t wait to bring another Weasley into the world. Already, he wrote to every relative he could… Safely, of course. _

_ With an airy laugh, she gently crossed her heart. “I swear it! A mother’s intuition is better, I promise.” _

_ “Let me see what you have done.” Arthur crossed the room before gently wrapping his arms about her waist. She leaned back in the touch, humming at the contact. “Those two aren’t very pleasant.” _

_ One of his hands ventured out and tapped at two spots on the clock’s face. One read as ‘MORTAL PERIL’, and the other had the gilded letters of ‘HOSPITAL’ upon it. Neither boded well for the future. While Molly placed very firm belief in the theory it was better to be safe than sorry, Arthur prefered to go with the flow until something needed to be done to  _ be  _ safe. _

_ “Hopefully,” Molly whispered, the words too heavy to be spoken too loudly. Even now, it felt like the air around them could shatter the fragile statement, “the world will be a better place when he grows up.” _

_ “The war can’t last forever,” he answered. But couldn’t it? For what felt like centuries, the Wizarding War kept stretching on and on. Molly lost her two brothers to its devastation. With its reach, any notion of a normal life kept breaking itself before they could regain the idea. As it was, Arthur wasn’t sure the two would ever get the chance to grow old together. _

_ He glanced down at the ring and swallowed. No time to waste on such thoughts. “Well, you’ll need to put school down. Little Ginerva will be heading to school, don’t you know?” _

_ “It’s not going to be a girl. My mother had two boys before she had me; it only follows tradition to have my firstborn son before my firstborn daughter,” Molly laughed. _

_ Wrinkling his nose, Arthur struggled to pull a masculine version out of Ginerva. So, he chose to pull another name he liked. “George then. Little George.” _

_ “No George could be this…” Molly took a few seconds, rolling a few words upon her tongue before deciding on one. “Rambunctious.” _

_ “I think a George could only be rambunctious,” he gently argued. “What would you know him?” _

_ Molly slowly untangled the two before reaching for one of the arms to the clock. Slowly, she spun it in his direction to reveal the letters deeply etched into the gold. The second he processed the name, a huge smile split his face. “I should have known you could pick a better name than I could.” _

_ “I like William. He seems like a William.” She rested her hands on her stomach and offered a shy smile to him. _

_ Arthur nodded. “Well, we better get this clock started then.” _

_ - _

“Mom… Don’t worry,” Bill finally said, too exhausted to properly lift his hand from the counter. She already forced his siblings into bed, whether or not they were tired. Judging by the huge black bags beginning to snare George’s eyes, he wondered if his younger brother slept at all. George, of all Weasleys, appeared to have taken his death the hardest. It was odd considering Bill never thought they were that close.

_ (Later, while looking through his father’s stuff, he will find a letter from George, dated the day after Ginny wound up in the Chamber of Secrets. All there was, scrawled amidst huge, torn wet spots, was a singular statement. Bill would never find the other side of the conversation, and he didn’t want to betray his brother’s trust by asking about it. _

_ ‘Dad, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect Ginny. -George’ _

_ But he could only imagine how bitterly Arthur took that to heart.) _

Molly paused in her pacing, wand still mid-wave. “Bill, sweetie… I don’t want to leave you guys now. But-”

“You need to start making arrangements,” he repeated back at her diligently. She spoke it as a litany, as if these words could help to anchor her back to the earth. They all appeared to be flying several inches above the surface lately, unable to grasp the truth of the matter. Sometimes, he caught Ginny looking at the clock and counting the number of arms again and again.

And he knew funerals were expensive. He knew Arthur had a lot of friends, and while they would put out an obituary in the Daily Prophet soon enough, she needed to inform family and Order members how exactly he died.

Bill still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. One second, his father stood only an owl or a Floo away. Now, his father remained out of reach no matter where he wanted to go… And it all happened because of a snake?

Finally, his mother sighed. “I don’t want to leave you like this. I mean that, Bill. Are you sure Charlie and Percy-”

“Neither of them can come. Besides, we can all handle ourselves. Ginny is a  _ fourth  _ year this year.” Something in the air soured the second he said it, but he couldn’t successfully backtrack. In the twins’ fourth year, Ginny got taken to the chamber of secrets. In Ron’s fourth year, his best friend almost died and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came back. And now, in  _ Ginny’s  _ fourth year, Arthur perished and left the family reeling.

Her smile wavered for a second before she nodded resolutely. “Well, you know I’m always only an owl away. I’ll write you every night. And if anything goes wrong, you can always contact-”

“I know how to take care of them. I’ve done it for a  _ long  _ time.” Speaking over his mother never really ended well before, but he can’t stop now. He reached over the counter and gently encaptured her hand. It stilled her in a way he hadn’t seen before, and she turned to him with unshed tears. “Everyone will still be here when you return.”

“Don’t give up on Percy, you hear?” she finally said, sniffling. Then, as if she couldn’t make it out the door unless she said more, the words came from her. Each one carried a distinct sense of pride, but underneath it, he heard her resolve breaking. “The twins take these things differently… Make sure they don’t get into any rows. And make sure Ginny’s temper doesn’t get the best of her, and don’t let Ron hide out in his room forever. As for Harry…”

Harry, the breaking point of the Weasley family. While Sirius offered to watch over him, Harry  _ insisted  _ he went to the Burrow to help. He reasoned it would be easier for him to discard anything of Arthur’s, and he could be a rock for each of the Weasleys to cling to during the trying time. 

_ (While Bill would never admit it, he intercepted a letter from Percy before it reached its proper owner. Percy and Ron’s relationship surpassed the way Percy interacted with the rest of them. While he viewed Bill and Charlie with a sort of resentment which boiled deep within him no matter what the older two did, and while he viewed the twins as unchangeable troublemakers out for their own good, he saw a chance to make Ron his second-hand in the family. _

_ It failed, of course, when Ron proved to be just as reckless as the twins if not more. Percy still cited his friendship with Harry as the turning point. Every other Weasley silently agreed Harry was simply the reason Ron could emerge from the shadows of his brothers. _

_ The bulk of the letter intended for Ron cast the blame upon the duo. It faulted Ron for falling in with the ‘wrong crowd’, and it explained why Harry’s existence is what brought the Weasleys to the warfront. Without Harry, Percy pressed, their father never would have been in that position. _

_ And, while Percy didn’t know this particular fact, Bill knew some of his family viewed Harry’s ‘nightmare’ of the snake biting his father as a suspicious thing to be watched. If he walked in on an interrogation one night, he would not be surprised.) _

Bill cleared his throat and shook his head. “Don’t worry, Mum, they’re in safe hands. Tomorrow, we’re going to play Quidditch, and then we’re going to somehow go through Dad’s stuff. I just don’t know…”

“We don’t have a lot.” Molly sighed and then straightened, reaching for her overnight bag. “You’ll know what to keep and what to give away. And Ginny and Ron will  _ certainly  _ know what should be hand-me-downs and what shouldn’t be.”

“I know. Let me help you.” With a newfound energy, he sprung to his feet and stole the bag away from his mum. While she could freely use the Floo network, she was going to Apparate to one of the Order’s headquarters. She laughed tiredly before following him dutifully to the front door.

Then, she froze and let out a strangled breath. “Oh…”

“We wanted to say goodbye,” Ginny said. She casually leaned against the door, acting as if this is something they did every day. However, with her long hair bound up in a bun, it was impossible to mistake their father’s Christmas sweater. It hung too long on her, and while she rolled the sleeves up, it still bagged around her waist and flopped over her hands if she moved too much. On the stairs, the twins sat, and Ron and Harry hovered behind the two of them. 

Molly glanced between her children. “This isn’t goodbye.”

“It’s okay, Mum,” Fred said after a second. “We know it’s not the same. But… We wanted to.”

“Then, come here!” And with those words, the dam  _ broke.  _ Bill stood back as Ginny tackled their mother in a hug. Soon after, the other three filed in and clutched her harder than maybe they needed to. Yet, in that moment, he knew nothing could have broken their family apart.

Gently, Molly shoved Ginny back. “Harry, Bill, c’mon.”

“You know I’m too cool for this,” Bill said loftily before snagging Harry and forcing him into the hug. And if Bill closed his eyes, he could feel his father’s presence hovering just above his shoulder. And maybe, if Bill closed his eyes, he could imagine he’d be there when he opened them.

And these little lies were what would keep him going.

-

_ “Is this going to be a familiar sight in the morning?” Arthur asked, trying to stifle his laughter as he stepped into his kitchen. _

_ His son smiled widely before sneezing, the flour blowing about him. The white powder settled on him, the white caking and completely covering his hair. Arthur was sure that if he were to ruffle his locks, it’d send the ‘snowflakes’ flying in every direction. “Snow!” _

_ “I noticed. And I’m sure your mother’s going to be thrilled.” The second pregnancy seemed to take more out of Molly than the first one. She once complained the second kid kicked more than Bill, and Bill was an active child. As a result, she spent more mornings in bed than out of it. Then again, she had already gotten very heavy with child. _

_ Bill paused, nose crinkling up. As rebellious as he became, he hated the second they laid the slightest pressure on him. Molly already jokingly said he was destined for head boy, and Arthur couldn’t help but reluctantly agree. Some of the head boys he saw while he was at Hogwarts had the same sort of style. They could stir up all sorts of trouble, but they always backed down when it came to facing steep consequences. _

_ Today, though, the ‘steep consequences’ are only going to be getting a bath. _

_ Arthur walked over and hummed at his son. Immediately, Bill thrust his arms in the arm, and he scooped him up. “Don’t worry. She doesn’t even need to know about it. We can keep it between us, right?” _

_ Bill yipped happily, and Arthur chuckled. He’ll take that as a yes. With one last wayward on the disaster, he reached for his wand. When he brought it down from where it sat vigil for the night, he usually deposited it on the counter. However, Arthur may be called a fool but he refused to act like one. With the war going on, the only proper place for a wand at night was by his side. _

_ He already worried about letting Bill sleep in another room. So, the idea of the nursery was all but discarded in favor of letting the two keep a watchful gaze on him.  _

_ With what Molly felt to be another son on the way, they’d have to adapt.  _

_ As Arthur started to cast all of the flour away, Bill suddenly started squirming. He gestured at the clock, and Arthur followed his gaze. Sure enough, something new appeared on its face, and Arthur shook his head slightly. They agreed on a name last night, but he didn’t realize it cemented it. _

_ He learned last time not to bet against Molly. While both were adamantly against checking the gender of the child, she knew it was a boy long before any magic could have predicted it. They decided Charlie Weasley would be the next one born. Most likely, Charles. But, should maternal instinct fail, they’d default to Charlotte.  _

_ “Are you excited to be a big brother?” he asked, bouncing Bill on his hip as much as he can manage. Bill already informed him, in his babyish garble, Molly held him  _ much better.  _ However, since Molly couldn’t hold much anymore, Arthur picked him up for the last month. _

_ Or, Bill could walk, but Arthur couldn’t bring himself to force his son after seeing his watery eyes or pitiful wails. Arthur was going to be the sappiest father he could manage. Not a single one of his children would walk away without thinking they were the sun in their father’s eyes. _

_ Bill babbled, and Arthur smiled. “You’re going to be a great big brother, you know. And I’ll try my best as your father.” _

_ - _

So Quidditch wasn’t going as well as he had hoped. They split the teams fairly evenly, in Bill’s humble opinion. Taking the twins from each other was always a cardinal sin, so the two of them with Ginny were on one team. Harry, Ron, and himself made up the other team.

It turned out his team really  _ sucked.  _ Not only did the makeshift goal posts prove to be impossibly hard to score on one side, the other side was a little too wide and easy. He remembered them arguing over who used which goal, but he didn’t remember the inequality being  _ that  _ great. It also turned out that while Harry excelled at Seeker, his Chaser skills could use a lot of work.

And yes, he understood everyone was taking this supposedly ‘stress reliever’ a little hard. The friendly trash talk turned dark almost immediately, both of the twins going after Ron a little harder than needed. Ginny threw her entire soul into the game and pulled off maneuvers which left  _ everyone  _ speechless. When did Ginny become so good at Quidditch?

“Are you even trying?” called Ginny, racing ahead of Harry. Harry adjusted his grip on the broomstick and started racing across the yard. 

Harry offered a pained smile. “Of course I am.”

“Prove it.” To  _ prove  _ her point, she casually knocked the Quaffle over his head, and George swooped down and caught it easily. He sped ahead until he reached where Ron diligently played Keeper. Sometimes, Bill wondered if Ron really wanted to play Keeper if it just happened to be the position none of them wanted. At the moment, Fred looked like he wanted to die in front of the other goalpost.

Fred raised his voice. “C’mon, Ronniekins! Can’t beat a simple Beater?”

“Yeah,” cooed George as he circled in front of Ron, eerily reminiscent of a vulture. “I thought you wanted to be the  _ keeper  _ for the Gryffindor team. That technique won’t make you the next Oliver Wood.”

“I wouldn’t join while you’re there,” Ron snapped.

George gasped and placed a hand dramatically on his heart. “How could you?”

Then, he swatted the ball in. Ron lunged to block it, and Bill watched as his hand missed it  _ just  _ enough. It landed squarely on his fingers and hit with a nasty  _ crunch.  _ Ron immediately howled with pain, gripping it close to his chest and flying haphazardly back to the ground.

A muted silence fell over them. George hovered in the air, face immediately going ashen. The words came out as a croak. “I’m so sorry. Ronnie, I didn’t mean… I… I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

And then, George was leaping off his broom and pressing back to the house. By the time Bill’s feet hit the ground, he couldn’t hope to stop him. He managed to catch his shoulder, but George tried shaking him off furiously. Fat tears swelled up in George’s eyes, splattering onto the gaunt quality of his cheeks.

“George, it’s not a big deal. He probably just jammed his finger,” Bill murmured, trying to coax him back to Ron. Behind him, he could hear Fred’s gentle jeering and Ginny’s comforting murmuring. Neither of them sounded too concerned, and he was certain Ron would just be embarrassed rather than seriously harmed.

Convincing George of that though…? It was a tall task, and until Ron  _ himself  _ admitted it was nothing, he wouldn’t calm down. “George, c’mon. We can ask Ron about it. It’ll be fine.”

“It’s not, it’s not, it’s…” George’s breath stuttered, and Bill’s heart broke for his little brother. Bill pulled him into a hug, slowly but surely, and George practically  _ collapsed  _ within the embrace. His brother’s hands dug into the back of his shirt. Slowly, the weight dragged both of them to the ground.

A few seconds of holding George and gently rubbing his back, it finally alerted the other Weasleys of the certain… Situation. The other murmuring finally died down, and he felt someone approaching hesitantly. Bill tried to extract himself as much as he can without leaving his brother entirely, turning to the one who came over. Immediately, he smiled weakly. “Are you holding up well?”

“What? Yeah,” Fred said absently, sinking to his knees. “Georgie, c’mon, don’t make a scene in front of the little ones. They don’t… They don’t want that.”

“I didn’t mean to!” he wailed, and Bill flinched at the words. He gently prodded George in the direction of Fred, and the two entangled willingly. He got to his feet and stared. What was the  _ hell  _ was he supposed to do? George scared Ron so bad he  _ still  _ was terrified of spiders. Even two days ago, he wouldn’t have minded Ron accidentally nicked his finger. If anything, they’d be having an argument about whether or not he was a crybaby.

Bill cleared his throat. “Y’know, you’re not that big either.”

“I appreciate the  _ sage advice,”  _ Fred said slowly. He turned to him with a small scowl written across his face, “but we don’t need you to comfort us like we’re babies. C’mon, George. Let’s go to our room and fuck stuff up, I dunno.”

“Fred-”

“Bill. We’re  _ good.”  _ Fred jerked his head in the direction of Ron before helping George to his feet. Before Bill can try and form another protest, Fred dragged his twin inside, still sobbing. Helplessly, he spun on his heel and looked towards the three remaining on the makeshift Quidditch pitch.

Ron practically shoved Harry away, stumbling to his feet. “It’s  _ fine,  _ Harry. George is just being a git.”

“Hey,” Bill softly called. “Don’t.”

“Well, both of them are.” Ron glared down at his hand for a few seconds, but when Bill tried to follow his gaze, he jerked it away and shoved it behind his back. He stared at his younger brother for a few moments, but he was already storming away. “I’m not doing this.”

“Ron-” Ginny started, but Ron waved her off. He gathered up the discarded brooms and continued towards the shed. Bill bit down on his lip and debated. He would be a terrible father. When do you let them go away angry, and when did you insist on conflict resolution? He’d raise two hell-raisers with his luck. How Arthur managed with  _ seven children  _ will be one of the biggest mysteries.

Harry gave an apologetic look. “I gotta-”

“Go,” responded Bill, unable to keep the exhaustion out of his voice.

As soon as Harry’s out of earshot, Ginny slid up beside him. He rested his hand on her shoulder in an instant. “When did you grow so tall, Gin?”

“Things change while you were in Egypt. I don’t know how to cope with the three of them,” she confessed in the same breath. She lifted her head to the sky, and as she locked eyes with the cloud, a bitter smile pulled at her lips. “I thought,  _ maybe,  _ if I could help them, I’d help myself. And Dad would be… Well, I dunno. Dad would be proud of me from up there, if there’s an up there.”

“Dad would be proud of you no matter what.” He wanted to pull Ginny to him and squash her in a hug, just like he did with George. But while he managed to bind George back together, he would only shatter Ginny to pieces.

She shook her head. “I’m the baby of the family. And I have one of the worst tempers. He used to call me his little spitfire, but I know he wanted me to settle down a little bit… So, I was trying to settle down.”

“You don’t need to,” he quickly said.

Ginny glanced over at him, and he was stunned by the silent tears starting to shine in her eyes. Before, she always cried loudly and publicly. He remembered shaking shoulders and hiccuping sobs. He remembered inconsolable, breathy words. 

A lot changed when he was in Egypt.

-

_ “I don’t like that name.” Bill looked up from his homework, giving his father a pout. Throughout the whole discussion, he kept butting in with his own opinions. While Arthur treasured his son’s input, he would not be naming their third-born Bill the Second. Technically, it’d be Bill the First considering his real name was still William. _

_ Molly hummed, forcing Charlie into a spin with her. The radio lazily pumped out some old hits, and Arthur found himself longing for Muggle pop songs again. While the wizarding world really did allow for great minds to flourish, creative souls seemed hard to find. After all, anyone who was  _ that  _ creative ended up penning new spells to open the doors to a new world. _

_ Then, Arthur gently leaned across the table and patting Bill’s hands. “Your mummy and me both like the name. I promise it’ll grow on you.” _

_ “Puke-ival,” was what Bill responded, the epitome of seven-year-old humor. Arthur bit his lip to keep the laughter from coming out even as Molly started a cheerful chastising. _

_ Charlie, on the other hand, looked towards Bill in wonder. As if Bill personally invented Hogwarts, Charlie lit up and started chanting the insult. “Puke-ival, Puke-ival, Puke-ival.” _

_ “Is that a nice way to treat your little brother?” Molly scolded. She grabbed his hand and led him to the table, quietly informing him to  _ sit down  _ and  _ do his homework  _ now that the fun has been all ruined. Besides, Arthur knew she was rather antsy to get to their own homework. _

_ Adding a new name to the clock.  _

_ The Weasleys always happened to be rather fertile, and this proved to be no different. Molly whispered to him the other night of her secret desire to have  _ seven  _ children. Arthur took one look at her and then started agreeing enthusiastically. They were bright spots in the otherwise dreary world, and he needed them desperately to remain as such. _

_ From a purely political standpoint as well, Molly and him agreed there needed to be more pureblood wizards and witches who didn’t care about the purity of their blood. They never intended to get married based on that fact alone. In fact, Molly and Arthur fell in love long before either learned of the other’s last name. They had common names, and each assumed the younger at least a grade younger than themselves. _

_ Selfishly, the clock provided reassurance other families weren’t sure to have. He could look at the clock, even when his sons were out of eyeshot, to see everyone was safe. As Bill and Charlie grew older, they started feeding off each other’s energy. Throwing themselves into danger just seemed second nature for them. _

_ He knew there had to be a secret order of some sorts. Molly pieced it together while reading through her deceased brothers’ letters, and Arthur finished off the puzzle at the funeral. The rebellion her brothers were part of brought about their demise. _

_ And Arthur, with so many young children depending on him, couldn’t bring himself to make the same sacrifice. He couldn’t be some bigshot hero just because people needed him to. His family needed him more _

_ - _

His family fractured, and Bill couldn’t find it within himself to piece it together. They kept scattering to the four winds when he needed them to stay constant, stay  _ grounded.  _ He wanted to  _ scream  _ for them just to communicate with them, but they never could. 

After the Quidditch mishap, he didn’t bother trying to make them sort through Arthur’s stuff. He just let them settle into their rooms for the nights. Every once and awhile, there were suspicious bangs and thuds coming from the twins’ rooms, and he thought he had a shouting match starting up between Ginny and Harry, oddly enough. He didn’t anticipate  _ that  _ pairing.

Bill shouldn’t do this, but he wanted to mourn too. And he wanted to do it in a more adult way than the others could-

“I can’t believe you called your girlfriend through the Floo network, and you weren’t even drunk yet. Do I get to drunk-Floo my people too?”

Bill swore beneath his breath before lifting his head, making eye contact with Fred. His brother stood in the doorway, clad in a knitted sweater proudly holding his twin’s  _ ‘G’.  _ However, with grief tearing down the two differently, it became almost too easy to see the differences. 

He shook his head after a few seconds. “Of course not.”

“You sure? I have some pretty spectacular exes.” Plopping down on the couch, Fred sprawled himself in front of the fireplace, not unlike a cat. A smile slowly started writing itself on Bill’s face. He remembered how, even as children, Fred always reached for the sunlight. Whether there was a metaphor hidden in that or not, he wasn’t sure.

Reaching for his wand, he forced the drink out of sight. “How’s George holding up?”

“I slipped a Dreamless Drought into his water. He’s asleep for once,” Fred casually said, as if he didn’t drug his twin. Bill just nodded and waited for further information to come. 

The words came out after a few seconds. “I don’t know how to handle Harry anymore, y’know. He just… Why didn’t he tell  _ us?  _ Why didn’t he-”

“What would he have done? Sneak into your dorm?  _ ‘Hey, Gred, I just wanted to let you know I had a dream your father got bitten by a snake and is currently dying’?”  _ Bill deadpanned.

Fred glowered at him. “I wanted  _ something.” _

“You can’t blame Harry for this,” Bill cautiously said. He could sense the tension crackling off his brother, and he debated calling Ron down to help monitor it. But… Goddamn it, he’s the oldest brother, so why couldn’t he find a way to start acting like it?

His brother started getting to his feet, but Bill beat him to the punch. “I don’t think you’re mad at Harry. I think you’re mad you don’t get to say goodbye to Dad, and I think you’re mad at Dad for dying.”

“Did you take psychology classes in Egypt?” spat Fred. He tried to brush past Bill, but he yanked his brother around and spun him. While Fred may have been one of the most  _ formidable  _ Beaters on the Quidditch team, Bill spent a good portion of his years breaking years… Even  _ before  _ he lost Hogwarts. 

He should have said something to his parents about that. He should have said something to Ron and Ginny about it because maybe they’d feel sure in their friendship with  _ the  _ Harry Potter. While he never got to meet Jacob, he got to meet their little sibling…

He failed them. After all, Bill tried to adopt the little Gryffindor as another sibling, but they were just  _ gone  _ after he graduated. He hasn’t even thought about them in years…

“I’m not good with you guys. I  _ know  _ that,” Bill finally said.

Fred stared at him in disbelief. “What?”

“I left for Egypt. I didn’t get to see any of you mature and grow up because I was off breaking things. So, I’m the  _ cool, older  _ brother. And I can’t figure out how to make any of you guys feel better, and I feel like shit. So, sorry I’m trying to  _ help,  _ but you need to tell me how.”

“I…” Fred stumbled over his words, and he froze on the spot. For a few seconds, they just stared at one another and searched for the proper words. Bill sighed and released him, shaking out his greatly whitened knuckles. Fred sunk to the ground beside the couch, pulling his knees up to his chest.

He whispered, almost too soft for Bill to hear at all. “I just… I didn’t make Prefect.”

“What?” Bill gawked at him. From what he knew, Fred and George never even considered that particular path for themselves. He was still somewhat stunned Charlie followed in his footsteps. It made sense for Percy.

Fred nodded. “He was worried about us, even though he never said it. And making Prefect was this way to make him feel better. But we have these dumb jokes and-”

“They’re not dumb-”

“Ron’s going to wake up with black hair, and I’ve already owled Hermione about it,” he deadpanned. “And I suspended a heart from Ginny’s ceiling fan, so when she wakes up, she’ll scream, and I get to dramatically flip off the light and make some joke about her and Harry.”

“That’s…” There was no good way to end this sentence. “Elaborate.”

“I was gonna prank you, but your relationship with  _ ‘ze French girl you like making ‘oot wiv’  _ is the better prank. _ ”  _ Fred turned his nose to the sky, adapting a horrible French accent. Then, he paused. “Was that Fleur from last year?”

“I-”

“Ron asked her out last year, and it failed miserably.” Fred laughed, but it came out hollowly. “I’m glad you two have the same test in women. Lemme know how it works out; I’m going back up to bed.”

“You may have distracted me, but I’m going to remember the Prefect thing,” he called after Fred.

His brother shrugged. “You called it… Congrats, Bill. I’m mad at Dad for dying.”

“I think that’s something you’ll have to get over,” he gently said.

Fred turned to him before he ran up the stairs, smiling wryly. “You don’t think I know that. Just… I guess we’ll have to fight over who walks Ginny down the aisle.”

The words hit harder than anything else said since he heard. He never even  _ thought  _ about that… He…

Nodding, Fred pointed at Bill’s face. “And  _ that  _ is why I’m pissed off.”

-

_ Arthur didn’t need to be certified at St. Mungo’s to know pregnancy lasted nine months. They anticipated for the twins to be born in the middle of May. The last thing they expected was for Molly’s water to break in the middle of her making breakfast. He frantically called off work, notified the closest relative to watch the other three boys, and rushed her off to the hospital. _

_ This also proved to be the first time Molly’s maternal instinct went awry. At the end of April 1st, she cradled two  _ boys  _ in her arms instead of one of each gender. Molly grinned at him, weary. “These two are going to be trouble.” _

_ “All the Weasleys are trouble,” he replied, sliding down next to her. Gently taking one of the twins, he held him up and made a face. The baby mewed pitifully, and Arthur’s heart broke within his chest. _

_ Since all forms of Apparition took more attention than either had, they rode back in a wizard’s cab. By the time they arrived in front of the Burrow, Fred was screeching in his arms. No matter how much Arthur tried to rock him back to sleep, Fred insisted on being heard. His tiny arm flailed out, and at the same time, George appeared to reach for his brother. _

_ Any annoyance Arthur had brewing broke in that moment. “Oh, Freddy, just wait until you meet your older brothers. I’m certain they’ll dote on you.” _

_ “I’m not sure they’ll let them. They seem independent, even now,” Molly commented before she got out of the car. One foot on the path leading to the house led to the front door being thrown open. Instantly, they were swarmed by the three redheads they were forced to leave behind. Their aunt watched, bemused. _

_ Bill was already reaching for the bundle in their mom’s arms. “Is that the girl?” _

_ “Well, actually…” Arthur huffed out a laugh. Bill looked between them before comprehension dawned on his face. A smile broke across his face, and then Bill eagerly greeted his brother. _

_ Charlie bounced around Arthur, Percy hovering shyly behind him. Molly gestured for him to come closer while Charlie practically bowled over Arthur. “I made a gift!” _

_ “Did you?”  _

_ Bill froze before looking over. “What do you mean  _ you  _ made him a gift?  _ We  _ made the gift!” _

_ “Okay, okay, just show me. The anticipation is killing me,” interrupted Arthur, quickly defusing the fight. He already had enough experience with that, and adding more children would only add to the boiling pot of tension. Then again, Arthur never really minded his children’s bickering. _

_ Charlie proudly presented two popsicle sticks, badly painted gold. The second Arthur got them thrust in his face, George stared at it with wide, excited eyes. He smiled down at both of his sons before nodding. “I see you went with Bill II and Charlie II again. Won’t Percy get a little Percy following him?” _

_ “What are their names, Dad?” Bill asked. Beside him, Percy stood close enough for George to clutch his finger. His eyes were wide with wonder. Judging by the way Bill and Percy kept their distance from one another, though, he suspected the two were still unable to make peace with one another. _

_ Molly answered for him. “Fred and George.” _

_ “Hullo, Fred! Hullo, George!” Charlie exclaimed. _

_ - _

The last thing Bill expected when he came down in the morning was Ginny and Harry sprawled together on the couch. Ginny laid horizontally, legs casually draped in Harry’s lap. Harry leaned against the arm of the couch, but his hands were gently resting on Ginny’s legs as if to provide some form of unconscious protection.

The smell of scrambled eggs drifted over to him. Bill turned on his heel and, stifling a yawn, offered a casual greeting. “There’s more of Mum in you than there is in Ginny. She got her cooking talents from Dad.”

“I suppose,” Ron answered absently. At some point, he wrapped the hand slammed against the Quaffle. If Bill looked hard enough, he suspected some odd swelling. Before he could question it, his brother shifted once more as if he could sense the questioning gaze. Looking over his shoulder, Ron offered a sheepish grin. “If you heal it, it’ll get back to the twins somehow.”

“If you need me to mend your hand, I don’t care what the twins think,” Bill replied before assuming his usual spot at the counter. He slid on top of the bar stool to study the expert way his brother handled his food. “Do you cook often?”

“Whenever Mum needs a break. Merlin, haven’t you noticed how domestic I’ve gotten?” A crooked smile flitted across Ron’s face, eerily contrasting the haunted look in his eyes. Bill looked away. When did they get so twisted up in all of this? It was different when Bill was growing up because it was still a war raging outside his door. But Ron and Ginny… They were born practically right as peace started getting established.

Instead of thinking of a response, he jerked in thumb in the direction of the entwined kids. “Not as domestic Ginny and Harry have gotten.”

“Don’t get me started. To be honest, I think I preferred Cho.” Ron flinched suddenly, and color flooded to his cheeks.

Bill leaned forward. “What?”

“Just… The other day, Harry and I were talking about how it was really bloody strange how Cho cried over everything. And… Well, y’know.” Ron waved his injured hand around vaguely. Bill resisted the urge to grab it, rip off the bandages, and truly assess the damage.

Clearing his throat, he tried to assume the role of the confident,  _ fearless  _ older brother. He was meant to be the epitome of a Gryffindor after all… He happened to be the Head Boy. “I don’t think I’ve seen you cry at all. I’ve seen Ginny cry, and I’ve seen George cry. You and Fred… You two know you can, right?”

“I’m not a crier. ‘Mione once told me… It’s not important.” The blush deepened slightly.

Bill accepted the bait, allowing the conversation to get steered in a slightly more  _ pleasant  _ direction. “‘’Mione’, huh? You two getting close?”

“What? No! She’s my best friend, same as Harry!” Ron spluttered, returning to his eggs. He reached for the plates, ready to start distributing, and Bill noticed something odd about their number. Silently, he counted them to himself. There were only six in the house: the twins, Ginny, Harry, Ron, and himself. Yet, Ron had a stack of seven plates in the pile. 

Before Ron could push them onto the plate, he snatched one away. “I think you counted wrong.”

“I know how to count,” protested Ron.

Bill raised an eyebrow. “Prove it.”

“This summer, I always grabbed seven. And Mum was usually there, but you can replace hers. And-” Ron’s face dramatically paled the second he realized his error. He looked resolutely back to his eggs and forced a little too much on one plate. The next had nearly nothing, but Bill simply stood back and waited.

He knew how Ron was. Ron couldn’t resist the way silence hung there in the air, waiting for someone to fill it. Unless something stressful happened, his little brother never clammed up. It only ever happened when it was a flight-fight-freeze reaction.

Finally, Ron gritted his teeth. “I keep expecting him to be, like,  _ there.  _ Like, I’ll wake up and it’ll all be a dream. A bloke died last year, but I didn’t really  _ know  _ him. And You-Know-Who may have attacked Harry, but that happens  _ every  _ year. So just… I dunno. It doesn’t feel real.”

“Ron-”

“Shut up. Don’t make this sappy.” Ron shoved the plate of eggs at him before cautiously approaching the two on the couch. He placed their meals down before kicking the couch. “Oi!”

“I’m up!” Harry stirred almost instantly, trying to jump to his feet. Ginny’s legs pinned him in place, and he practically toppled over the arm of the couch. A smile twisted on Ron’s face, and Harry laughed weakly. Ginny murmured about wanting a few more minutes of sleep.

Bill knew Harry and Ron were close. He knew from the moment Ron sent him a letter in his first year, the misspellings only inspiring suspicion, about how he hit his head and his arm falling off a stone knight. He knew from the moment Ron went to Egypt with the rest of the Weasleys, a little too withdrawn and little too  _ un- _ Ron-like. Hell, he knew from the moment their pet rat turned out to be a mass murderer.

But… 

Ginny shifted and noted Bill’s gaze. She wiggled out from underneath Harry and joined him. “Don’t worry about those two. They’ve been through hell and back, and I’m sure they can do it again.”

“Should I worry about you?” Bill tried.

She levelled him with an unimpressed stare. “Stop channeling your inner mum. I’m sure we all know what you’re trying to do. Just shut up and eat your eggs.”

-

_ They didn’t know, when Ron was born, the war was soon to be done. They didn’t know life would become safe as soon as the savior of the wizarding world was born… Well, safer. All they knew was they had yet another son on the way, and this time, things seemed a little darker than they did before. _

_ Charlie sat at the table, resolutely not saying  _ anything.  _ Instead, he scribbled paintings of dragons and occasionally setting the ice pack against his busted lip. Molly and Arthur always made the rule they wouldn’t mind ‘fighting’ injuries until they were enlightened. If the injury came about because the kids were brawling again, they needed every detail. _

_ And Bill was suspiciously quiet. It was past midnight, and all of the younger boys were asleep. The only people still up was Molly, diligently working on the hanging clock, Arthur, trying his hardest to focus on his work and not his bloodied sons, and the two boys who missed their curfew by  _ several  _ hours. _

_ “Ronald is a good name,” mused Molly.  _

_ Arthur quickly agreed, glancing away from his paperwork. “Fits with the rest of our family. Hopefully, he’ll be a little less  _ wild  _ than the rest of us.” _

_ “Especially  _ some  _ of our children,” added his wife, sending a pointed look over at the two. They continued looking down or, at the very least, far away from their parents. Every once and awhile, he’d happen to catch Bill sending a concerned look over at Charlie, who merely shook his head.  _

_ He needed to hear the story soon. Otherwise, Arthur would have to break the unspoken vow of silence to ask. While Molly may not appreciate it, it was driving him barmy not being able to speak with his sons.  _

_ Arthur held out for the next fifteen minutes before he finally turned to Bill. “Who did that to your brother? I don’t think it was you, but it  _ was  _ you… I’m all kinds of disappointed in you, Bill.” _

_ “Dad…” Bill’s bottom lip quivered, and Molly sent him a scathing look. But, nonetheless, Arthur’s withering look and words managed to work on one of his sons. _

_ Charlie burst out talking. “One of the kids down the way was bullying a Muggle kid. So, I fought him. I… Bill wasn’t there to stop it. But I  _ promise,  _ Dad, I wasn’t going to fight him but he kept calling this kid dirty words. And-” _

_ “I understand,” Arthur cut him off. _

_ Molly took one look at Bill before placing the hand of the clock down and holding out her arms. “C’mere. You know it’s never a bad thing to stand up for your friends, and it’s never a bad thing to stand up for what’s right. I just wish you would have gotten one of us. We would have solved this without needing to come to  _ violence,  _ if you understand.” _

_ “I’m proud of you.” He turned to both of his sons. “Bill, I wish you wouldn’t have let your brother wander out by himself. But next time, don’t try to hide his secret if it’s something like this. And Charlie… Good job, son.” _

_ Bill shuffled his feet. “I was  _ going  _ to help-” _

_ “And to think, we were finally naming your brother after you,” sniffed Molly. _

_ Bill froze. “What?” _

_ “Ronald  _ Bilius…  _ I guess we’ll have to find a new name now,” lamented Arthur while Bill started groaning. _

_ - _

In the end, he found Ginny in the one place he would have never thought to look. The only reason he ended up searching was because Ron gently prodded him in that direction, and the twins pointedly tried to steer him there. So here Bill was, taking one of the old broomsticks to the roof of the Burrow. And, unsurprisingly, Ginny sat there and stared up at the stars.

“Isn’t it cold up here?” he called to his little sister before settling down beside her.

She shrugged slightly, wrapping her winter coat a little tighter as if to demonstrate her shield against the chill. “I needed space to think before I started hexing Fred. They’re just being so…”

“They’re grieving. I’m grieving. And hell, I’m willing to bet you’re grieving.” Bill grinned to himself before giving up. This time, he wasn’t going to tiptoe around the subject. “And somehow, I have a feeling Dad once took you up here without Mom knowing about it. It was one of his favorite spots to go thinking. That, or his garage, and you know he couldn’t cluster his children in there.”

“He once told me about the pureblood families up here. The Sacred Twenty-Eight… I can’t believe we’re one of them. I thought Dad was going to be  _ so proud  _ when one of us broke us out of that.” Ginny shifted uncomfortably before glancing towards him. “Did Ron tell you?”

“About your ‘copious’ amounts of ‘boy toys’? Yeah, it might have come up.” And honestly, Bill couldn’t care less. He knew he had a few, or maybe more than a few, crushes when the time came. In fourth year, he really liked Emily, who turned out to be less than…  _ Nice.  _ And he did harbor a bit of a crush on Jacob’s younger sibling, but that was beyond the point. She was  _ Charlie’s  _ age.

Ginny laughed. “I was  _ so worried  _ Ron was going to complain to Dad about them. I didn’t want to have that conversation with him. The whole  _ birds-and-the-bees  _ speech, y’know? Don’t give me that face, Bill. I’m pretty sure the twins gave me that talk back in first year about Harry.”

“I didn’t need to know that.” Bill made a face. He can imagine the three speaking about it, and it’s safe to say some moments were meant to be between  _ some people and never spoken aloud again. _

“Neither did I.” She noted his face and giggled lightly to herself. Then, she shook it off. “I just… Okay, this is going to sound crazy, and I  _ know  _ that. But I keep thinking about this little moments later on, and I get so  _ mad.  _ Like, Dad doesn’t get to meet my future husband. And Dad doesn’t get to see me graduate Hogwarts. And they’re these selfish little moments, but you know what?”

“What?”

“I get to be pretty bloody selfish; I lost my dad.” She lifted her chin defiantly to the stars as if she was daring them to argue with her.

Bill nodded. “I get it. I was gonna introduce him to Fleur soon-”

“No, you weren’t.”

“No, I wasn’t.” He smiled sheepishly at his sister. “You guys weren’t supposed to know yet either. I know Mum’s gonna flip out, and I know  _ you’re  _ probably gonna flip out like you always do when I bring girls home. But Dad… Dad was gonna love her. He was gonna ask her stupid questions about France just like he does with Harry and Hermione.”

“He shouldn’t have died.” Ginny pulled her knees to her chest, her red hair whipping around in the wind. 

Bill shrugged. “But he did.”

“But he did,” she agreed quietly.

The two of them don’t say anything for a long moment, caught up in all the lost moments. When Ron and Ginny finally made the Quidditch team just like they always thought they would. When Bill finally brought home enough money to get wicked gifts for everyone in the family. When Bill introduced Fleur to them and then pulled Arthur aside, talking about how she might be the  _ one.  _ When Bill asked for the family ring to give away. When Bill got married, when Bill had children, when Arthur became a  _ grandfather. _

Ginny broke the silence finally. “It’s cold.”

“I told you so.”

“Shut up, git.” Ginny’s small, sad smile betrayed her confidence. “Let’s go get the boys. We can make hot cocoa and cuddle up and tell stories. Why think about the future when we can think about the past? It’ll be bittersweet, not just depressing.”

“Okay.” Bill grabbed his broom and mounted it before pausing. “By the way, Ginny, I’m pretty sure Dad met your future husband. It’s Harry, right?”

“I’m pushing you off that broom.” And judging by the way Ginny actually lunged, Bill wasn’t willing to risk it. He flew off the roof, cackling.

-

_ Finally, finally, the clock was complete. Molly stood in front of it, admiring it, while her arms remained tightly cradled around her newest ray of sunshine. Arthur stood behind her, cheerfully playing with Ron. The older children all trekked outside to play, not willing to play with the two ‘babies’ of the family. _

_ Ginerva was the last child she would ever have. In some ways, Molly couldn’t help feeling depressed by the concept. Once Ginerva left the house, once Ginerva grew up, she’d never have another duckling in her house. No matter how hard Arthur tried to reassure her she would never lose him, she couldn’t shake the feeling her family would be incomplete in the future. _

_ It was just the war speaking, Molly tried to remind herself as she looked at Arthur. Her husband would never stop loving her, and she would never stop loving him. And all of her pride, all of her joy, would never leave her house… Not truly. Everywhere she looked, she can see their imprints no matter where they are, no matter where the clock said they were. _

_ All of their hands pointed towards home. All  _ nine  _ of them. Molly admired the clock for a few seconds. While some of the hands of the clock were different, she could find the tying thread between all of them. She redid the clock a few months before Ginny was born, and she let each sibling write their younger sibling’s name upon the golden hand. A sample of each of her children’s handwriting riddled the clock. It didn’t match at all, yet it made perfect sense. _

_ “See, Ginny?” Molly murmured to her baby girl. She would never let any harm come to her daughter. She would never let any harm come to any of the Weasleys. “This is your family.” _

_ And in that moment, Molly made an impossible wish and an impossible hope. May none of the hands of the clock ever fall off. _

-

Molly crept into the house, footsteps quiet and breaths almost silent. She didn’t want to wake any of her children. She bitterly regretted not being able to be here right away. But the world demanded something of her right after it deprived her of the greatest love she would ever have…  _ Romantic  _ love that is. Because the second she stepped over the threshold, her heart swelled in a way she hadn’t known possible anymore.

In the living room, all of her children laid sprawled and clad in Arthur’s sweaters. Each one had an A on their chest, and they hung off them in various degrees. While it was almost too short on the lankiest of her sons, Ginny and Harry both swam in theirs. The table held the rich scent of hot cocoa, long since turned cold. They laid in a pile, all of their limbs combined and their bodies entwined around each other. 

And Molly glanced away from the sight and towards the clock. And, at the moment, all of the remaining hands pointed at  _ HOME…  _ And, at the moment, all of them were safe. So maybe, some of her impossible wishes paid off anyway.  



End file.
